


Won't You Kiss Me?

by 49thAlias



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-15
Updated: 2015-10-22
Packaged: 2018-04-26 12:01:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5004058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/49thAlias/pseuds/49thAlias
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Series of drabbles/one-shots written for a kiss meme prompt found on Tumblr. The pairing is Lavi and Allen (Laven); each chapter has a different genre, ranging from fluff to angst, to family/comfort, and to everyone's favourite: smut. Enjoy. (Cross-posted on FFN)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hot, steamy kiss

**Author's Note:**

> So I clearly realised I haven't been writing stories in years, much less been posting them up online. My apologies. I, however, have been dabbling in a few drabbles here and there, which I never bothered—and will never bother—uploading. Hopefully these few private stories helped keep the rust from taking over my writing skills? God only knows.
> 
> Anyways, I've recently gotten myself back into the D Gray Man fandom once again, with the revival of its manga and what have you. I swear, every one, two years or so, I jump straight back into this tight-knitted fandom and it's _great_. DGM has been, and will always be, my most beloved series. It's the very first anime/manga/fandom I got myself into, back nearly 10 good years ago when I was still a brat making my first step into the world of Anime. So when reading reading fics of my absolute _most favourite_ OTP of all time: Laven, I got hit by lots of inspiration. Writing for this pairing makes my blood rush, and how else to get it pumping, if not through kissing scenes?
> 
> This entire fic is going to be a whopping 22 chapters long ( _hopefully_ ; if I can motivate myself to write for each prompt /lol). The chapters are inspired from a kissing meme posted on Tumblr, which I have taken into myself the liberty to freely write, despite them being ask-prompts, because I am a loser like that who never ever receives asks and get prompts.
> 
> The chapters are each going to be different ratings, genres, and what-not. I hope you readers are open to that. I'll make sure to put up warnings before each chapter though. I hope you like these little goodies I whip up at ungodly hours of the night.
> 
> * * *
> 
> **Chapter 1:**
> 
> **Genre(s):** Romance
> 
> **Warning(s):** Rated slight-M for implied scenes, actions, and a very hungry little Lavi.
> 
> I would just like to say that this was written at 5 a.m in the bloody morning when I should have been asleep instead, and I would like to apologize in advance if there are any mistakes or typos. I did my best to eliminate any of these when I woke up a few hours later, more awake, but I cannot promise it is completely error-free.

It's been a long day, filled with endless battles against akumas, searching for the location of the innocence fragment, and struggling to protect it from said akumas, and Lavi's more than a little exhausted with all the exertion placed on his body earlier in the day. He's slick with sweat and grime, and lined with cuts and bruises, and his jacket is torn in more places than one, scarf a little singed. All he wants to do is just crash into the inn's bed and sleep the rest of the night—and week, even—away, but Allen had vehemently tugged harshly on the redhead's scarf, nearly choking him.

"You can't sleep—at least not yet! You'll dirty the sheets with your muck, you idiot!"

Lavi's way too spent for this, but he thinks he managed to get out a somewhat coherent whine, because Allen snaps back:

"I don't care! Go take a bath, or so Lord help me, I'll  _make_  you."

"Well then,  _go ahead_ ," is what he assumes his reply is.

And Allen does. He yanks on Lavi's arm, dragging him none too gently to the bathroom, and shuts the door behind them. He  _tsk's_  in slight annoyance, when Lavi slumps over Allen, face buried in the juncture of his clavicle, grumbling  _God, Allen, can't a man just sleep? I can just bathe in the morning, can't I?_

"Absolutely not," comes the resolute answer, as Allen works on removing Lavi's jacket, unwinding the scarf around the taller male's neck in the process. When Lavi's stripped down to nothing—with some difficulty on Allen's part, because  _fucking hell, Lavi, stop leaning on me!—_ the teen shoves his boyfriend upright and away from him, sending the bookman stumbling backwards over his feet in his half-asleep state, and landing in the tub with a loud  _thump!_

" _Ow!_ Hey, what the  _hell_ , Allen?!" Lavi barely has the time to get his complaints out when his eye widens, a light dust of blush slowly bleeding out and coloring his face red.

"A- Allen…?" he gulps; his Adam's apple bobs up and down as he swallows in nervousness and maybe a little (a lot of) excitement. Allen turns around after discarding his clothes in a neat pile next to Lavi's, stepping into the tub together with the redhead. It's a little squeezy, and their bodies brush against each other every so often and  _oh God, it feels so damn good and Allen's no doubt a sin_ , but Lavi suppresses his urges because it's  _too soon, Junior!_  This is nothing they haven't experienced before and they've had times they were in even closer proximity, and the Bookman Junior can at least exercise some (albeit close to none) self-control; though his hands are already trembling, palms moist with sweat and-

"Well, I did say I'd make you shower, didn't I?" Allen states simply, as if he were discussing something as casual as the weather, while he moves to turn on the shower head and guides Lavi under the water streaming from overhead. He works away at the dirt and grime and blood caked on the redhead's lean (but oh-so- _deliciously_  toned) body.

Lavi, now much more awake, in both mind and  _body_ , snakes his arms around his partner's slightly thin waist, moving in for a peck, but Allen smacks the offending limbs away, shoving Lavi's face out of his personal space, because  _I'm busy trying to scrub the dirt away, Lavi, goddamn it!_  Lavi lets out an indignant cry when he got denied the kiss.

And each time Lavi makes any move of trying to steal a kiss from his boyfriend, the younger teen would berate him, right him again, and continue his cleansing. After ten minutes of a ceaseless cycle of moving in, getting reprimanded, and being elbowed away, Lavi's had enough because right now, he's wide awake and  _attentive_ , and Allen's naked mere centimeters away in front of him, much too hot and much too  _delectable_ to not make a move on, and at this rate Little Lavi Junior's going to be fully upright and  _ready to blow_  and it's going to be embarrassing because  _who the hell comes at the mere sight of their lover_ (however  _hot_  Allen looks).

With a heated cry of frustration, Lavi jerks Allen's wrists away from his body, holding them in one palm above the white-haired boy's head, shoving him backwards up and against the wall, perhaps a little too harshly (Lavi makes a mental note to apologize for that later). His face moves forward in a blur and he presses his lips firmly on Allen's, noses clashing and foreheads bumping none too gently against each other in his haste. Lavi adjusts their position into something more comfortable and less awkward, never once breaking the contact as their mouths dance together in a hot, steamy kiss.

Once their postures are corrected, Lavi nibbles hungrily on Allen's chapped lips, roughly shoving his tongue in his boyfriend's mouth when he gasps softly. Allen smells and tastes of love and home and  _Allen_ , and Lavi tries so hard not to crush him any harder against the hard wall (because getting roughly thrown against it was enough for one night, thank you very much, Lavi) with how much he loves the British boy.

The two move against each other, Lavi nudging Allen's legs apart, and placing his knee in between them; his growing arousal pressing up against the teen's inner thigh. Allen moans into Lavi's mouth at this, and the redhead feels his dick twitch in excitement.

The white-haired boy notices his hands are finally released from Lavi's grasp, and they immediately roam around his form, caressing every dip and curve of the other's toned body, tracing the lines that define his abs, and leaving feather light touches along the scars that litter his torso; the shower's still running and their bodies are so aroused and so stimulated and so,  _so_   _wet_ , and it's  _so_   _hot, oh God!_  Allen drags his fingernails down the other's back, the long nails from his left hand surely leaving angry red trails, when Lavi suckles on his tongue, eliciting soft whines and whimpers of pleasure. His hands reach the end of the taller male's back, but they don't stop, instead venturing further down and daringly squeezing Lavi's delightfully perky bottom;  _Lavi, oh Lavi! More!_

Lavi's more than a little amused (and  _very_  turned on) at Allen's uncharacteristic bold display and forwardness, and he doesn't do anything to hide this, smirking against Allen's lips. It's only when he feels his lungs caving in and Allen's hands faltering from the lack of air does Lavi end their fervent kiss.

"Well  _somebody_ 's finally awake, huh?"

Lavi grins, panting hard, and once again impatiently closing the distance between them for a second kiss.

"And whose fault is that?"

Allen can only chuckle as their lips meet again for a second (and more intense) kiss.


	2. Cheek Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It actually took me quite a while to come up with and idea for this prompt, mainly because I had so many thoughts going through my head, and because I absolutely do not want to have the same/almost similar ideas for each and every prompt of this series. But once I got started, it just flowed naturally. I'm glad.
> 
> I like to think that Lavi's the more needy one in this relationship, with him acting more childish than Allen and all. Of course, Allen has his own fair share of tantrum episodes and clinginess, but probably not as much as Lavi, I envision. I also have a headcanon that because Lavi is stuck between a hard wall and a rock, having to decide whether he wants to be a bookman or an exorcist, he's probably the one that needs a lot of reassurance. Of course, Allen needs that too, but would rather keep his problems to himself, while Lavi just seeks Allen out for comfort.
> 
> I would also like to say that this chapter is just pure fluff, and Lavi being a big baby. Because me, being the idiot that I am, got so worked up and eventually upset over headcanons and theories of Lavi. Well then, onwards to this chapter, while I whip up chapter three, filled with _even more fluff_. (Aren't you excited? I am.)
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> * * *
> 
> **Chapter 2:**
> 
> **Genre(s):** Romance
> 
> **Warning(s):** Rated T for Lavi's potty mouth. Also fluff. Tons of fluff.
> 
> As usual, I would like to put it out there that my stories are, more often than not, written at ungodly hours of the wee morning, with a few (major) edits here and there made the next few hours/day, so if there are any mistakes, my apologies. I do not have a beta, and any faults are entirely mine. It'd be nice if you readers can help point out errors and typos, so I can correct them.

It's been  _weeks_  since Lavi last saw his little beansprout of a boyfriend. Two weeks, three days, fourteen hours, eight minutes, and forty-nine seconds, to be exact _._  And if he doesn't see Allen Walker within the next second, Lavi thinks he might actually really break down right there and then on the spot and throw his hundred and tenth hissy fit.

(As if he isn't already doing so.)

Komui's been sending Allen out on endless missions ever since a little over eight weeks ago, and the time they spend apart just keeps growing longer and longer. Lavi's starting to get  _very_   _fucking_   _pissed_  with the chief because  _what the bloody hell, Komui?_

And to add oil to fire, each time Allen finally,  _finally_  returns to the Order, their precious alone time is crudely interrupted by the Panda dragging him away by his ear, scolding  _get back to work, Lavi! Those records aren't gonna write themselves, if you haven't already realised!_

Needless to say, Lavi's pretty much cranky as hell, and if this keeps up, even  _Kanda_ 's going to end up losing to the redhead in the competition for Mr. Grump.

"Oh, come  _on,_ Lavi. Surely you can wait just a few more hours? Allen's already reported in last night, and he's scheduled to return home today, latest by nightfall." Lenalee throws her hands up in the air in frustration. Lavi's been spending the past hour pestering her, quibbling on and on and on about  _when will Allen be back, ugh_ , and  _can I just punch your brother in the face for once, Lenalee_ , and the poor Chinese girl has had enough of it. Lenalee may be a great girl, and an even greater friend, but even she has her own limits, and Lavi's  _really_  pushing it.

"But it's been  _weeks!_  Two weeks, three days, fourteen hours, eight minutes, and fifty-eight seconds, to be exact. And if only your idiotic brother  _Komui_  would give Allen—and in turn me—a break and stop sending him out on missions, perhaps we'd all be spared from this hell. I 'unno, just a  _suggestion_ to him, maybe?" Lavi whines, body slumped over the table in a reach for Lenalee's pigtails, tugging on them.

Lenalee can only sigh and rub her throbbing temple as she ignores him in favor of stalking away from the table they're sitting at, leaving Lavi behind, while he calls after her,  _Lenalee? Hey, I'm not done talking to you yet, Lenalee! Don't forget to tell Komui what I said, okay? Heeeey-!_ Really, Lavi can be such a child sometimes (all the time).

Lavi sulks as his only companion that's willing (but not so much anymore) to listen to his complaints ditches him. Grumbling under his breath, the bookman apprentice hoists himself up, heading towards Allen's dorm room, deciding to go snuggle in the white-haired boy's bed and breathe in his scent that lingers in the sheets—albeit faint by now.

The sky is dark when the redhead's conscious again, and he finds himself sitting up sluggishly in his boyfriend's bed, clutching the blankets that smell so much like Allen, wondering  _when_  exactly he fell asleep. It's only when the door creaks open and the room is bathed in light once again at the flicking of switches does Lavi snap out of his sleep-induced daze.

He squints, then blinks. Once, twice. And Allen, sweet,  _sweet Allen_  is right there, in front of his face, frowning and questioning  _what are you doing in my bed, Lavi?_

Lavi rubs his eye, but it is not a dream, and  _oh my God, he's back, he's back, he's here, in front of me; Allen!_ And he scrambles up and leaps off the bed, arms and legs outstretched, shamelessly pouncing on the shorter teen, instantly wrapping his legs around Allen's waist like a koala clinging to its favourite tree,  _it's Allen, Allen Allen Allenallenallenallen!_

The younger exorcist yelps in surprise and stumbles back, nearly tripping over the blanket that Lavi had thrown to the floor in his haste, and sending Timcanpy hurling through the air with a slam from the back of his head. Tim flutters his wings in anger at this.

"Whoa, whoa,  _whoa_!" Allen's barely able to carry Lavi's weight, and he cries out in slight annoyance. "Get off me, you idiotic rabbit! You're  _heavy_!"

Lavi laughs out loud and complies, but only moves to release his legs from around Allen's waist, letting them fall to the floor so he can support his own weight. His arms, instead, tighten around the shorter form, face buried in Allen's soft snowy hair.

Allen sighs and smiles exasperatedly at Lavi's behaviour, returning the embrace.

"Silly Lavi."

"I missed you."

"Mmm."

"I really did!"

Allen chuckles, and Lavi huffs against Allen's head, sending strands of silky white locks flitting.

"Won't you give me a kiss?"

At this, Lavi pulls back, eyes shining in hope and face full of anticipation, and posture literally begging  _kiss me._

Allen grins, and instructs the bookman to close his eye. When he eagerly does, the young teen inches forward, stands on tiptoe-

And plants a chaste kiss to Lavi's cheek.

Lavi's eye shoots wide open.

" _What?!_ That's all?" he sputters in indignation.

The cursed exorcist's chortles grow into full-blown guffaws, hands grasping his stomach as he bends over in laughter.

" _Alleeeeen_! This isn't funny!" Lavi's griping now, and Allen's having difficulty ceasing his snorts, and he should really stop teasing the redhead, but he looks too butthurt and it's  _too hilarious._

After a good minute or two of Allen snickering and Lavi pouting, the boy wipes the tears from his eyes, tugging on the red scarf around his taller boyfriend's neck, pulling him down to his height. Their lips meet, and Lavi's immediately lapping up Allen's taste in hunger, while the latter hums in delight at finally being able to feel his lover's soft,  _soft_  lips.

Lavi's arms are circled around the white-haired teen's waist, and he's drowning in Allen's love, and the feel of his body pressed up against his own, and the taste of the inside of his mouth, and the caress of his tongue dancing against his, and  _oh God, I love this boy so,_ so  _much. Please don't ever take him away…!_

When the two break away for air, their faces are flushed and they're both gasping for breath and Lavi's swimming in euphoria,  _my Allen!_

Lavi bends down to bury his face into the crook of Allen's neck, breathing in deep and drinking in his scent; arms wrapped tight around Allen's form, holding onto him like a lifeline. The white-haired exorcist laughs heartily, stroking his boyfriend's flaming red hair.

"I love you, too."


	3. Nose Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this chapter was supposed to, and could have been, posted yesterday. But me, being the weakling I am, suddenly decided the night before that _hey, I really need to paint my nails now. Like, right now._ And I succumbed to that urge. My attention span is short like that /lol. I was also typing this while doing my nails, and you can only imagine the mess that inevitably happened. I just can't keep my hands still for like ten minutes... I also had to attend a function yesterday, and so I was out the whole day. So, my apologies for making everyone wait.
> 
> Anyways, I'll be moving the rest of my notes to _after_ the chapter, because there's going to be spoilers, and I don't want to ruin the fun for everyone. They're rather important (to me, at least), and also a little interesting, and explains quite a bit about why I did so and so, so please do read it, if you'd like!
> 
> Onwards, enjoy!
> 
> * * *
> 
> **Chapter 3:**
> 
> **Genre(s):** Friendship(-ish?)
> 
> **Warning(s):** Rated K, I suppose.
> 
> The usual: I wrote this in the middle of the night, while painting my nails; I have no beta for this; I tried my best to edit out mistakes; yada yada yada. If there are still any leftover errors, please let me know so I can correct them! Thank you.

The small boy, no older than ten, is desperately trying to retrace his steps; weaving through the tall trees, splashing through puddles of mud, eyes wide and frantically seeking out the small clearing where he last saw  _him_.

_Mana…!_

The crows caw ominously, and the tree branches sink lower and reach out further the deeper he goes, snagging him on his hair and clothes. The sun has started to set, and Allen's starting to get  _really damn_  frightened now, and he's breaking out into a run, legs moving in frenzy, screaming  _Mana! Father, help me! I'm scared!_

Allen's dashing full speed ahead, not bothering about the directions anymore. There are tears in his wide eyes, streaming down his red cheeks in tiny rivulets, and disgusting snot is running down his nose, and he's pretty sure he looks like an ugly ball of mess, but  _who cares,_ it's dark, he's tired, lost, and so,  _so terrified,_ and  _oh, he's going to_ kill  _me!_

The child feels as though he's been running for days, when he suddenly, and none too gently, slams head first into something. Allen, with his small build, is sent tumbling backwards, landing harshly on his bum with a painful sounding  _thud!_

"Oof-! What the-? Oh, whoa,  _hey!"_

Allen jerks his head up, and his eyes immediately greet a bright, fiery red. Two hands sneak under his armpits, and he's pulled up to stand on his wobbling feet.

"Whoa, what's wrong? Why're ya crying?"

The stranger's patting Allen's clothes down, and getting rid of the leaves and twigs that stick to his bottom and hair. Allen can only hiccup and blink, letting more tears flow freely as he takes in the blurred form of the person. He's taller than Allen, and looks slightly older, with a long green shawl that drapes right down to his knees, cloaking him. The boy blinks again; the tears clear up a little more, and he gazes straight into beautiful, glistening jade green eyes that sparkle like precious gems, and he's sure he sucked in a breath in awe. He absently notes the peculiar little eye patch that covers the other boy's right eye, peeking out from under his fringe.

_Oh,_ his red,  _red_ fringe.

The blazing mop of hair the boy sports is burning brilliantly, even in the dark, and it's reaching out and screaming for Allen's attention. It's so vibrant, and intense, and  _bright_ , filled with color and  _life_ , unlike Allen's dull one, and his hands are itching to reach up and stroke that flaming red mane.

Mana had often reminded Allen not to trust outsiders too easily, but this boy seems nice enough to have a little faith put in him. Plus, his bright,  _bright_ red hair is so pretty, and so eye catching, and  _oh!_

The redhead, seemingly satisfied with his work of cleaning Allen up, speaks up again.

"Hey, you!"

Allen is startled out of his wits, and he snaps to attention.

"Y- Yes!"

"Why're ya crying? Are ya, by any chance, lost?"

At this, thoughts of his current predicament comes flooding back into Allen's little head, and he feels himself start tearing up again.

The poor boy is barely able to get out an explanation of his situation and reason for crying without being interrupted every few minutes by his constant hiccups and teary eyes. Thankfully, the older boy seems to be able to understand his muddled words with little problem, gently wiping the tears from Allen's eyes.

"Whoa, that must be tough on ya..." the stranger strokes his chin. "C'mere and sit. Ya need to calm down first."

Allen is tugged over to a particular tree, flopping down on the ground sheet that spreads out before it. There're clothes hanging on the branches, and it looks as if someone had set up camp here. The boy is moving around, rummaging through haversacks, whistling lightly.

"Old man Panda and I are sleepin 'ere for the night—he's out collecting wood, by the way," the traveller explains, handing over a mug of steaming tea. "'Ere ya go, have some to loosen up."

Allen gratefully accepts the mug, mumbling out his thanks. When he's done gulping down the drink, the unknown boy grins and retrieves the cup, putting it away to wash later.

"Well then," he turns back to Allen. "Do you remember how this clearing looks like? And can you describe this ol' man of yours?"

Allen gulps and nods, trying hard to illustrate as clearly as he can the large patch of green grass, surrounded by tall trees, and the stream that flows gently through the clearing, giving the place a calming vibe. He goes on to depict the place where he last saw his caretaker, with his tangle of messy hair, and the strange clothes he always wears.

The other boy hums in thought, eyes tightly screwed shut, brows furrowed in concentration. He sits in the same position for so long, and Allen's almost sure the redhead fell asleep like that, when he abruptly jumps up in place.

" _I know where that is!"_

Allen's immediately up, eyes shining in hope. "You  _do_?!"

"Yep, sure I do! Panda and I passed by that clearing; I know how to get there!"

The beaming grin that takes over the older boy's face is contagious, and Allen finds himself gleaming along and  _oh, thank you, God!_

"Here, I'll show ya the way!"

The stranger is pulling Allen by the hand, leading him further and further away from the little camp site, and little Allen is bubbling and so excited and  _so relieved_ because he's  _not lost anymore, thank heavens!_

That's what he thinks, but after a long while of walking, Allen starts to get nervous, wearily eyeing his surroundings and flinching whenever the crows high up in the trees move or caw.

"U- um… Are you sure we're heading the right way…?"

"Sure I do! I did say I know how to get there. Trust me, I have a really good memory!"

The ten-year-old gulps, and his hands tremble a little in fear; his companion notices this, and gives his hand a firm squeeze, tightening the grip on their joint hands. The taller boy smiles reassuringly, and Allen relaxes, if only a little.

It's when the sound of flowing water, and the sight of that familiar little clearing greeting Allen, that he perks up, letting go of his aide's hand in favor of dashing through the trees and bushes.

He runs forth animatedly, and is met by a golden glow speeding towards him, clashing into his head, and causing him to topple backwards, but he doesn't mind, because he's  _finally_ found the clearing and he's  _back,_ and  _so glad_.

" _Tim!"_

The golden golem flits in front of Allen's face, as if worriedly asking  _where have you been?_   _Are you alright?_ And all Allen does is laugh out loud, happy tears in his eyes, relief washing his worry lines away.

(The redhead boy stands behind the two, observing closely, heart jumping a little at the younger boy's cute,  _cute_  smile.)

"Well then, I guess I'll get going now. Bye, lil' sprout!" the stranger is waving, turning to walk away, and Allen's suddenly panicking and pushing Tim aside and calling  _wait, don't go!_

"Y- you're leaving? But I haven't thanked you yet! And it's already dark, and the forest is going to be really  _scary_ , and you'll get  _lost!"_

The boy's chuckling in response, flapping a hand, "Don't ya worry! I told ya, I have a good memory, an' I got the route memorized—right down to the number of steps and turns we took. It's  _all_  in here," he taps his forehead. "I'll be  _fine_."

Allen wants to talk to his saviour a little longer, get to know him a little better, but the sun is down and it's getting really late, and keeping the other boy away from his camp any longer might not be a good idea; he can also faintly hear Cross yelling  _you idiot pupil_ ,  _getting lost like that; I'm going to_ kill  _you_ in the distance, and he's anxious with rush.

" _Will I get to see you again?_ "

A smile. "Well, it depends! Panda an' I travel a lot, so maybe we'll bump into each other in the future. Who knows! The world's full of possibilities."

"I'm Allen! What's your name?"

The redhead's grinning and patting Allen, smoothing out his snow-white hair. He moves forward, planting a little kiss on Allen's nose.

"I'm Massa. It was nice to meet you, Allen. See you around!"

And with that, the boy is gone, and all Allen's left with is the memory of those  _shining green_  eyes, and  _flaming red_  hair, and quirky speech pattern. The feeling of Massa kissing his nose lingers, and he touches the spot, heart beating a little loud in his ears;  _ba-thump ba-thump ba-thump._

_I'll see you around, Massa._

_._

_._

_._

It's five years later, when Allen wakes up in a hospital bed to a stranger standing by the doorway with his beautiful, glistening jade green eyes that sparkle like precious gem, and peculiar eye patch covering his right eye, and fiery red hair filled with color and vibrancy, and intensity, and  _life,_ and all he can think of is:

_Massa._

" _Nice ta' meet ya. I'm Lavi."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, notes.
> 
> From time to time, I like to indulge myself in Little Allen and Lavi playing together; or one of them caring for the other. I also wanted to do something where they would meet again in the future, and thus, this drabble was spawned from that idea.
> 
> Initially, I wanted to make Allen much younger, because _what's there_ not _to love about a teeny tiny Allen?_ I also, admittedly, have quite the soft spot for kids between the ages of four and seven (but only if they're cute and obedient. And only if I don't need to care for them). But then I realised that the meek personality I casted for little Allen wouldn't make sense, because canonically, young Allen's a bratty child that throws tantrums and pouts a lot. It's only after Mana passes on that he does a 180 turn. So, I changed the timeline to somewhere just slightly after Mana dies, and Allen is taken in by Cross.
> 
> Concerning Lavi, since he was only 13 in this, and clearly, it is impossible for his name to be Lavi, I had no choice but to switch it around. And trust me, I did some research.
> 
> Lavi, in Hebrew, means "Lion". And since it's a Hebrew name, I went for another Hebrew name as well to replace his 49th name. It was a tough fight between Massa, and Kfir. Because Massa means "burden-bearer", and I thought it was very fitting of someone who has to watch the world burn right in front of his eyes, and not do anything, not _feel_ anything, instead just recording the events as a mere observer. As for Kfir, the meaning behind the name is simply "lion-cub", and when I stumbled upon it, I was just _oh, what the hell, that's fucking cute!_ There was also Tiran, which meant "amateur/apprentice", but I but I omitted that one out quite early on.
> 
> In the end, I wanted his name to hold a much deeper meaning than just "lion-cub" (despite it being hella cute) or "apprentice", and so Massa won. There.
> 
> I also want to point out that no, I am not particularly a fan of writing Lavi speak with an accent (even though I imagine him to have one), because to me, that can sometimes be hard to read, and also it gets messy when I write. But I thought I could make an exception just this once, because I would think that Lavi probably has a thicker and more noticeable accent as a child. So if it gets messy, I apologize.
> 
> I still have plenty of scenarios that continue off from this story, and if I ever get round to polishing the details and fine-tuning the connections, I may (or may not) do a little continuation of this. We'll see.
> 
> Oh, P.S, my term break ends today, and it's back to hell for me tomorrow, so I will obviously have less time to write. Updates from now on will be slower, but I am still determined to finish all 22 (23, actually. But prompt 20 is "any of the above" so I'm skipping that) prompts as soon as I can. Until then, I hope everyone can be patient with me and continue to support this.


	4. Forehead Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter totally did not turn out the way I had planned it to, and so it took even longer than usual to write out. I wanted this prompt to be one where probably one of them falls ill, and the other kisses them on the forehead because _cute_. But when I typed the first word out, it totally went off course /lol. Whoops, I guess.
> 
> Maybe it's my hands's way of telling me I've written too much fluff for the past few chapters, and it's high time I drowned readers in angst.
> 
> Anyways, I deeply apologize for the lateness of this update. School has kept me extremely busy (and it's only the _first week_ —kill me ugh), and I had to type this out in whilst dealing with school work and life's dumb obstacles. It was actually completed on Tuesday night, but I refuse to post anything that I haven't proofread like ten times over, again and again, so I delayed the update. I also ended up adding in a lot of things to try and make everything flow smoother, so there.
> 
> I hope the twice the amount of words are enough to satiate you readers and compensate for the delay.
> 
> Onwards!
> 
> * * *
> 
> **Chapter 4:**
> 
> **Genre(s):** Hurt/Comfort, Angst-ish? (I tried.)
> 
>  **Warning(s):** Rated high T, for endless swearing and cusses. Sorry.
> 
> As always: no beta; all mistakes are mine. If you spot any mistakes, please do not hesitate to point them out, so I can edit them.

_A Noah–_

_Allen Walker–_

_Betrayer–_

_The Earl's Ark–_

_The Fourteenth–_

_Who? –_

The Order is in disarray, people are scuttling around; some with a mission, others with nothing better to do than to whisper to each other about how  _he can't be trusted_ and spreading unbased rumors like wildfire _._  And Lavi's storming down the hallways of their Home, seething in anger at how  _unfair this fucking world is._

(As if he doesn't already know that.)

_Where exactly did things go wrong?_

He's the Destroyer of Time;

their comrade;

an exorcist;

their  _friend._

 _How_ dare  _they doubt Allen Walker?_

What has Allen, poor  _sweet_  Allen, done to deserve this?

The cursed teen thinks nobody notices how those cruel,  _cruel_  words affect him so deeply. He thinks the people around him are oblivious to the way his body curls in on itself, trying hard to appear as small as possible; the way his shoulders slump, and how he walks with his head down, slinking past anyone and everyone, as if in humiliation.

He thinks they  _all don't know._  But Lavi  _does_. And it's got nothing to do with his Bookman observational skills. Anyone can see the change in Allen: how he tries to force a smile in response to the hushed whispers behind his back, and how he tries so,  _so_  hard not to succumb to the pressure and start doubting himself too.

_Is he human, or is he Noah?_

_A comrade? Or an enemy?_

_._

_._

_._

_Who is he, exactly?_

_._

_._

_._

They had been sitting in a group around a table in the cafeteria: him, Lenalee, Kanda (surprisingly), Bookman, and Allen, who, for once, decided to come out of hiding to spend time with his friends he had unintentionally been avoiding.

Allen had been wolfing down piles upon piles of food (although not as much as usual, Lavi notices), and Lenalee had been sneaking concerned glances toward the teen out of the corner of her eyes, trying her best to act as normal and not crush Allen in a worried hug. Kanda had harrumphed and  _tsk_ -ed at the jerks who so dared to gander and whisper behind their hands at the sight of Walker. Lavi would have been amused, and would have smugly called Kanda out for it,  _so you do care for Beansprout, huh, Yuu-chan?_  But as it was, he, himself, was also too busy glaring at the passers-by who sent side glances filled with disdain their way.

It's only when this  _crazy bastard_  comes charging up to Allen, grabbing a hold of his left arm, demanding answers and yelling  _you fucking fake exorcist! Noah! Get out of the Order, you betrayer,_ that Lavi's had had enough.

A Bookman is supposed to remain unbiased, letting fate run its course before him as he stands by and observe—he  _knows_ this, but at that very moment, he just  _couldn't give a fuck._

He had been up in a flash, sending the piles of plate stacked high on the table wobbling and crashing to the ground, roaring out  _you have no rights to say that to Allen!_  He remembers the fury that coursed through his veins, his face flashing in outrage, because  _Allen fucking saved us. He saved us all; how dare you fucking doubt him!_

He remembers Allen instantly rising by his side, tugging at his arm, brokenly begging  _please Lavi, just let it go._

Lavi would have almost— _almost—_ shoved Allen aside in his temper, but one look at his face filled with anguish and torment and  _shame_  made the hotheaded teen halt.

_Lavi, leave it be. It is of no issue. Please don't reopen your wounds over a matter so trivial such as this… Please…_

Lavi remembers wanting to weep and cradle his best friend, all broken and beaten and  _accused_ , in his arms, blaming the world for its harsh, inhumane judgement. How could they make a gentle and loving boy such as he, who fought for both humans and  _akuma_ equally, bear the sins for something that he  _hasn't fucking committed?_

_This world is just so fucking unfair. God be damned._

Bookman had swiftly knocked Lavi off his feet, throwing him to the ground with not a single consideration for his barely healing wounds.

_Get your head together, Junior! Is this how a Bookman acts? Are you going to go against the Laws of the Clan? We are Bookmen, mere observers of the events that unfold, are we not?_

The old man had Lavi held in a headlock, his mouth hovering near Lavi's ears, hissing out his disapproval.

Lavi doesn't remember much of what he had done afterwards, whether he had struggled out of the unrelenting grip and tossed Bookman aside in favour of pummeling that nameless bastard to the ground, or whether he had forced his mask of indifference and unfeelingness back on just as Bookman had expected of his successor. But he remembers barging out of the cafeteria in a fit of rage, shoving aside any unfortunate soul who dared cross his path.

_Fuck you, God._

It's not the first time he cursed at Him. Nor will it be his last.

.

.

.

Lavi's always been an agnostic. But right now, perhaps he's closer to being an atheist after all.

Because  _how_ can God exist, if He lets all these people run amok, engaging in endless wars; lets innocent people suffer at the hands of death?

 _How_  can Lavi still stay neutral on the question whether God is real or not, when Allen Walker is so obviously suffering in so much pain, and the God that he loves so much is  _not saving him_?

Clearly, He doesn't exist.

Because if He did, there wouldn't have been forty-eight wars to witness—to record. There wouldn't be innocent lives dying by the thousands. There wouldn't be women getting raped and brutally killed, nor children being sold off as slaves.

There wouldn't be Allen Walker suffering right now.

_God be damned._

_Innocence be damned._

_Noahs be_ fucking  _damned!_

Lavi wants so badly to scream his lungs out in frustration; to trash a room and maybe break a few people's bones.

After that entire ordeal in the cafeteria, Allen's been locking himself up even more, not even bothering to come out for meals anymore, instead relying on the food he had stuffed into a burlap sack and lugged to his room. Lavi can't help but think a little bit of that was his fault, for lashing out at that  _son of a bitch_  in front of everyone, and attracting half the entire Order's attention on them, and more specifically: Allen.

He's never hated life any more than this before.

And so, the redhead has been stomping throughout Home for the past thirty minutes (stomping being an understatement; he's literally tearing through the headquarters in livid anger at whoever dared whisper the name Allen), in search of his best friend.

It's when he's literally thrown open the doors to any possible room he could think of Allen holing himself up in, when he hears the distant tinkling of piano keys.

_The Ark._

In an instant, he's pushing through scientists and finders, making a beeline for the entrance to the Ark.

Komui is right behind him, hands wrapped around the redhead's waist in an attempt to pull him away from the entrance, but Lavi's  _not having any of this bullshit._  He roughly elbows the Chief in the face ( _how dare you, Lavi…!)_ and pushes off from him, lurching forward into the Ark.

Lavi stumbles, and his vision clears out, only coming back a few seconds later to greet the white scenery of the Noah's Ark. Opening his mouth, he yells.

" _Allen!"_

The soft melody of a piano immediately grinds to a stop.

" _Lavi…?"_

His voice had wavered a little, a hiccup vaguely discernible, and Lavi's heart clenches in ache and a little anger.

"Yeah, it's me. Allen, would you open a door to the room?"

Hesitation.

" _Please?"_

Silence reigns for a few moment. Then, suddenly, a note echos, and a flash of light breaks out in front of the Bookman apprentice, before widening into a door for him to step through.

The first thing Junior sees is the form of Allen, smaller and frailer than ever, huddled on the piano seat. His already-thin stature is, if even possible, more fragile looking than previously, and his arms are almost gangly looking. Allen's alabaster skin has taken on a sickly look, almost blending him in with the white,  _white_ room. His snowy hair has lost its luscious shine, appearing limp and dull. The only color that stands out on the boy is the deep, dark circles under his eyes.

He turns around to face Lavi, and the Bookman-in-training notices how Allen's cheeks are stained with tear tracks.

Lavi sucks in a breath.

O _h Allen…_

"L- Lavi…"

The older teen edges closer, almost moving in a gingerly manner, as if afraid of breaking Allen if he made any sudden large movements. When he's near enough, Lavi pulls his friend into a hug, crushing him dearly and stroking his soft hair.

Allen is stiff in Lavi's arms, unsure and unmoving, opting to instead stay as still as a deer in headlights.

"Allen, it's okay to cry."

The white-haired boy is trembling now, frowning and squinting his eyes, biting his lips to keep the tears at bay.

"Let it out, Allen."

And as if on cue, Allen's dam breaks.

Waves of tears are surging down his red cheeks, and he's wailing like a baby and hiccupping, face buried in the crook of Lavi's neck, droplets welling up in the redhead boy's clavicle, sobbing  _why…? Why Mana? Why the Noah?_  His hands are balled into fists, clutching onto Lavi's shirt for dear life, tense and shaking and  _so weak._

Lavi's gently lulling the younger boy, caressing his hair and rubbing his hand on Allen's back in comforting circles. He's trying hard not to let his own set of tears fall; trying hard not to whisk Allen away from the Order, from the blame, from the responsibilities and burdens he bear on those delicate shoulders. He guides them to the couch in the middle of the room, sitting down and dragging along with him. The white-haired boy straddles Lavi, face still in the apprentice's chest, body still quivering. Lavi tightens his embrace on the poor boy, so broken, and battered, and vulnerable.

"I… I almost lost everyone…"

Lavi shushes the boy.

"I almost lost  _you… Lavi…."_

His chest constricts, heart thumping painfully against his ribcage.

"But you  _saved us_ in the end _,_  Allen-"

" _You could have died-"_

"But I did not-"

" _Your innocence broke, and it was all my fault-"_

"It was no one's fault-"

Allen withdraws from Lavi's chest, looking straight into his jade green eyes, his own chrome ones clouded over with lament and tears, a turmoil of emotions thundering deep within his oculus.

" _Lavi… What am I…?_

It's a simple question, yet filled with so much hurt and despair that Lavi wants to do nothing but throttle the bastards who dared doubt Allen's undying loyalty to the Order.

"You're our comrade-"

" _Am I human, or am I Noah-"_

"An exorcist-"

" _A comrade? Or an enemy-"_

"Our  _friend_."

Their questions and answers interrupt each other, voices overlapping the other. But Allen doesn't miss the last sentence Lavi had said. And he had said it with so much finality, that Allen wants to just break down and wail; wants to scream and yell into the sky; wants to curse the God that he so loves so much and puts so much faith in, because  _where is the fairness in everything?_

_Why Mana? Why him?!_

Allen is convulsing and writhing in Lavi's lap, and Bookman's successor brings their foreheads together, softly lulling his friend.

"It's going to be alright, Allen."

A choked sob.

" _I promise."_

And the redhead leads his lips to Allen's forehead, gently kissing him, hands combing through Allen's white strands of hair, whispering words of comfort against his skin.

Allen sighs, and slumps into Lavi's arms, spent and exhausted.

" _Who am I, exactly…?"_

From the deepest parts of his mind, he hears the Fourteenth Noah snort.

_You are me, and I am you._

Allen allows a stray drop to trickle down his cheek. He's so tired and beaten and  _defeated_ , so unsure about life. But as he melts into Lavi's embrace, he forces himself to will the Fourteenth's haunting voice to dissolve away, instead focusing on the redhead.

Maybe,  _just maybe,_  if he cannot trust God, then perhaps he can trust this redhead, who has lived through forty-eight wars; who has been there for Allen since the start of time, aiding him through obstacles, offering unbiased yet benign words.

He doesn't miss the way Lavi tightens his grip on his waist; doesn't miss the way Lavi buries his face into his own white tresses, as if Allen was the most important person in the world to him. And he feels, more than hears the words Lavi whispered against the crown of his head:

" _You're Allen Walker."_

Perhaps he can put a little faith in Lavi, his best friend.

Perhaps, like Lavi says, it's going to be  _alright._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If only everything is going to be alright. Poor Allen.


End file.
